Bobby's Boys
by Giacinta
Summary: The title says it all.


I don't own Sam and Dean or Supernatural, unfortunately!

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They strolled along the narrow sidewalk, shoulder to shoulder, occasionally impacting as they

walked along.

X

Anyone observing would have been aware that there was some profound connection

between them, but if friends, brothers or lovers, they would never know.

X

The man who stood on the corner did.

He knew very well that they were brothers, he knew just about every darn thing about them.

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He knew of their miserable childhood, without a mother, killed by a demon; of their father, so

hell-bent on revenge that his little sons were pushed into second place.

The younger had died and the elder had unselfishly thrown himself into Hell so that his

sibling might live, not calculating what his loss would do to the one who remained.

He had seen them overcome all kinds of trials and tribulations.

X

They had fought, reduced each other to bloody pulps, one had even betrayed the other but

the bond that connected them was stronger than any crap Creation could throw at them,

those very hardships cementing them even closer.

He knew that they were weaker when apart, easy prey for every supernatural goon, celestial

or hellish, but that lesson had been assimilated and he chortled at the fact that now their

combined force could defeat just about anything.

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They swiftly closed the distance and stopped in front of hìm.

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"Hey, Bobby, they chimed in unison."

X

"Took you two long enough to get here, we were supposed to meet an hour ago," I replied

crustily.

"Yeah, but Dean here, decided that he needed to get the phone numbers of at least two

of the waitresses at the diner."

"Okay, and how did that go," I deadpanned.

X

Dean waved two receipts in the air, a cocky smile on his face.

"I thought I'd get an extra for Sasquatch here but it seems that he doesn't appreciate my

efforts."

"Dean," huffed Sam, "I can get dates of my own, I don't need you going around procuring

for me. Besides we don't even like the same kind of girls!"

"Yeah, if you don't wine and dine them for at least a week before the crunch, you're not happy!"

"Dean..."

X

I stepped in because the bickering could have gone on for hours.

I knew because I had witnessed it countless times before.

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"Okay, you two, that's enough! Is it possible that I have to call you out like a couple of kids!"

Dean's face mirrored that of a five year old and Sam's went into chastised puppy dog mode.

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Two of the most fearless, powerful and unique men on the planet acting like children!

God, how I loved these boys, I doubt I could have loved them more had they been my own

flesh and blood.

The thing is, they knew it too, the two hotshots; they knew exactly how to twist me around

their little fingers and you know what...I just loved to let them do it, although I'd rather face

up to ten pissed off demons before admitting it!

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I felt a surge of affection come over me as I studied them, a crazy desire to pluck them both

from the dangerous highway they travelled and secure their safety in some utopia where

I would never again have to see their blood spurting or their flesh ripped open by the claws

of some random beast.

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I was taken aback by the intensity of my feelings, by the overwhelming urge to protect

them, to shield them from harm.

Was this how a true parent felt, the panicked realisation that however much they tried they

would never be able to keep their children safe from the world and its evils!

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Damn you to eternity, John Winchester!

Why didn't you take your boys and run the first time you saw their blood spill, the first time

they looked at you with frightened eyes, then, when all they needed was a father to keep

them safe!

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Well, you left them John and they're my boys now and by God, I'll fight tooth and nail for them.

Maybe I shouldn't be cursing you John, I should be grateful to you for leaving me the gift of

your sons, a heavy responsibility, but when I see their eyes shine at me with the love of sons

for a father I can only thank you.

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"Bobby!"

Dean's worried voice restored my mind to the here and now

"Sorry Dean, I was just daydreaming for a second there, now where were we?".

X

Two pairs of disbelieving eyes studied me:

"I SAID I'm fine! Now did anything turn up in the diner?"

"Okay, okay, calm down there Bobby, wouldn't want you to take a turn or anything!" teased

Dean.

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There had been a report filed from an old lady about a man with coal black eyes seen by

her in the diner a couple of days ago and the boys had come into Sioux Falls to investigate.

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"The diner was clean, nothing suspicious at all," offered Dean

"Well, we can't do much 'till we get more to go on.

Could be the old gal was mistaken.

I'm gonna head on home. You two boys comin'?"

"Naa, we're gonna look around some more, talk to a few more people first."

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"You cooking dinner tonight Bobby? All this investigating has given me an appetite."

"Whadda you think I am, Dean Winchester, your cook and bottlewasher! You can fix your

own when you get back!"

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"You wouldn't want to have two starving dudes on you conscience now would you," joked

Dean, flashing his most engaging smile.

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"Harrumph, well I suppose I could rustle up some of my curry," was the miffed reply.

"Great Bobby, you know it's my favourite 'cause yours is just the best!"

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Bobby turned and stomped off towards his old rattler, "Idjit."

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Dean could feel Sam's bitchface drilling into the back of his head.

"Dean, Bobby is not your slave, we could have picked up a take-away from the diner for

the three of us."

"You're kidding, right Sam? He loves cooking for us, if we bring food home he'll be offended."

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He strode off towards the Impala, Sam's eyes still boring into him.

He chuckled to himself, between Bobby and Sam he was having a fun day!

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From behind a grove of trees the being with the black eyes smirked, for he had finally

stumbled on his prey...the two Winchester boys.


End file.
